Legally Blonde Law Firm
by UniqaChica
Summary: A little bit of married life fluff between Elle and Emmett.


(A/N: My first and very overdue LBTM fanfic. Enjoy!)

Summary: A little bit of married life fluff between Elle and Emmett.

Disclaimer: Legally Blonde the Musical is owned by some geniuses who can't spell.

Legally Blonde Law Firm

An Elle/Emmett Fanfic

by Jill Diamond

Elle slumped through the door, kicking it closed with her pink heel once inside. Brooke had said her "prison buddies" would be easy to work with. She was lying.

"I'm home!" she announced as she heard the jingling of Bruiser's collar come closer. She bent down and cuddled the chihuahua, kicking her heels to the side as she did so.

She didn't hear Emmett answer, and figured he must have been on the phone. She slipped her familiar pink trench off her arms and onto the coat rack, and then silently peeked through the door of the hole in the was the couple used for an office. They _had _to get a new apartment. The dorms at Harvard were more spacious than this.

Emmett was subconsciously twisting in the spinny chair, one hand with the phone and the other with a very flicky pencil. The sleeves of his shirt had been somewhat rolled up, and Elle could see the slippers he wore under the desk. Despite the fact that he was smoking hot in a suit, she loved it when her husband dressed down at home. It reminded her of those all-nighters in law school that seemed so distant, but in reality were only a few years ago.

With a murmured "Yeah" and "Thank you", Emmett replaced the receiver and sprang up to hug his wife.

"Inmates are totally crazy," Elle whined into his chest, tightening her arms around his waist. "They keep telling me how I should run their case. I need a Red Bull _bad_."

"Aw, poor Elle," Emmett sympathized with a hint of sarcasm. Then the phone rang again, causing Elle to jump. Emmett loudly groaned to the sky and leaped to beat the answering machine.

"Hello, Legally Blonde Law Firm?...Uh huh...I see...Meaning what?...Well, I'll see what she says and I'll call you back – uh, can I get your number?" He squished the receiver between his ear and shoulder, reaching for his flicking pencil and a sticky pad. "Yeah...okay, thank you, sir." The peppiness left his voice when he hung up, and he slunk down into the spinny chair tiredly, nearly crumpling the chicken-scratched note. "Oh...God."

"What is it?"

"_That..._" Emmett began tentatively, "...was a Mister Warner Huntington III." He articulated with sarcasm. "He said he got into 'a little trouble' down at the modeling agency, and was hoping you would defend him."

Elle's jaw went completely slack.

"Warner?"

Emmett leaned his forehead into his propped palm, and nodded slowly.

"...What kind of trouble?"

"He wouldn't tell me over the phone," the husband said with a sigh. His fist released and the sticky note ball dropped onto the desk.

A few stray flaxen hairs fell over Elle's face as she leaned against the doorjamb in an awkward silence. Neither of them had seen Warner since graduation, and she was somewhat glad that they hadn't. Her mind uncontrollably flashed back to the night in the restaurant – the second-most humiliating night of her life. Crunched over her rapidly-dampening meal, face red and blotched.

"_Elle, if I'm going to be a senator when I'm 30, I'm gonna need somebody serious."_

But then she remembered what she'd said to him the night after she's shut up Brooke's trial. She could have turned him flat down, especially after all he'd done to her. But law school had truly changed her, and she nearly _thanked _him for all that he'd done. True, if he'd never dumped her, she never would have even considered Harvard in the first place, or come within two hundred miles of the East Coast, for that matter.

She wouldn't have met Emmett.

"You're not seriously considering his case, are you?" the said husband asked in disbelief.

Elle bit her lip before she answered.

"I'm not taking his case because I feel sorry for him; I'm taking his case because it's the right thing to do."

Emmett didn't say anything for a moment. He simply got up and gave Elle a kiss on the crown.

"How did you get to be so noble?"

"I learned from the best."

She felt his chest shake in a stifled chuckle.

"I still won, though," he whispered, his smile obvious in his tone.

The couple stayed in this position until the loud buzz of the dryer alarm filled the apartment. Elle slumped, and trotted into the laundry room with a pout.

She propped the empty basked against her hip and began to toss the freshly dried clothes inside. But after a dress and a pair of slacks had already made it home free, Elle froze at the next garment in her hand.

A dark, indistinct sweatshirt.

The blond slowly brought it up to her nose and sniffed deeply.

_The _dark, indistinct sweatshirt.

She promptly set the basket on top of the dryer and sauntered back to the doorway of the office, swinging the memory like bait on a hook.

"You remember this?"

Emmett's head jerked up from the massive pile of paperwork he had just started on and spied what she dangled from her finger.

"Is that-?"

"Yep. _The _sweatshirt."

Emmett rose up from the spinny chair once more.

"I hear it looks great with a pink bunny suit," he said with a smile tugging at his lips.

"You would know."

The husband took up one of the sleeves and rubbed small circles into it with his thumb.

"You know, you were _supposed _to give this back."

The couple's eyes caught for but a moment, before Elle and the sweatshirt bolted down the hall towards the bedroom. Emmett broke into a sprint and initiated the chase, but the slippers he wore had horrible traction, and he was losing fast. After nearly falling on his face he kicked them off, and finished the race barefoot. He caught up just in time and playfully tackled Elle onto the bed, tickling the sides of her waist.

"Emmett, no, stop!" she cried through peals of laughter, her legs kicking out uncontrollably. He tried to reach for the sweatshirt while she was distracted, but he was caught off guard and flipped over, now being pinned down by his wife.

"I don't think so," she purred as she tied the sleeves around her shoulders in a very Girl Scout fashion. She leaned down slowly and gave him a long peck on the lips. "It's mine, now."

_The End_

(A/N: I have another idea for a Kyle/Paulette fic, so don't think I'm done with these!)


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